


Rekindling the Fire

by reigningqueenofwords



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2020-10-10 01:31:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20519756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reigningqueenofwords/pseuds/reigningqueenofwords
Summary: Request: Anonymous. Could you pretty please write a dean x reader where they lost their virginity to eachother in the impala when they were teens and genuinely loved eachother but Dean left suddenly because of the hunter life and all and they meet further down the road and the readers a researcher for hunters and the old fires rekindled? Fluff and smut? Maybe a little angst too? I just really deep down want dean to be happy. You know?&Anonymous. Hey there! I love your writing! I need an angsty dean x reader. Where the reader is his girlfriend and he’s really frustrated about having the mark of Cain and he doesn’t seem to care about her anymore. Their sex is really just for him and he doesn’t talk to her anymore. She tries to talk to him and he gets really angry and maybe strikes her. She leaves and after demon dean he feels too guilty to see her. After amara is unleashed and the mark is gone he knows he needs her help. Thank you! :-)





	1. Chapter 1

Licking your lips, your fingers moved quickly over the keyboard. You were the go-to for hunters that needed research done. You were the best of the best. Granted, it wasn’t a paying job, but helping save people was it’s own reward. Your hair was up in a bun, a pencil stuck through it, as you had a habit of losing them. Next to you sat a plain note book, and an address book. Each was neatly written out- numbers, e-mails, and who to contact if you couldn’t reach them.

A few people had ’_Dean Winchester_’ as that contact. A name that you hadn’t uttered since high school. Taking a deep breath, you pushed your thoughts from the Winchester, and back to the task at hand. Your grandmother had died, and left you a sizable inheritance, making it very easy to dedicate as much time as you wanted to helping out those who needed it.

The phone rang nearby, you rolled your chair over and picked up the phone. “This is Y/N, what can I do for you?” You put the cordless phone between your shoulder and ear as you rolled back to your previous spot near the computer.

“Uh, my name is Dean Winchester, your name and number was found in some things of Bobby Singers. You still do research for hunters?” You mouth went dry, and you nearly dropped the phone. “Hello?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” You chuckled. “I do, actually. Is Bobby okay?” You asked, concerned.

“Bobby’s dead.” He sighed.

Your heart broke. You and Bobby had helped each other more times than you could remember. “Oh no…” You breathed.

There was a silence that took over the air for a moment. “I need some research done, and according to what I’m reading, you’re the go-to.” He explained. “How far out are you from Bobby’s?”

“Quite a ways, actually.” You told him. “If you tell me what you need, I can easily get it to you.”

“No, this kinda is something you gotta see. Where are you?”

You took a deep breath. “I’m in Maine.”

After that, you’d given him your address, and hung up. You didn’t tell him who you were. Would he even remember you? After all, you were a couple of teenagers last time you laid eyes on him.

_“Dean!” You giggled, the two of you in the back of John’s Impala. Dean’s lips were currently on your neck, and his breath tickled your skin. Your hands moved from his biceps to his bare back._

_His lips brushed your ear gently. “I love you.” He breathed._

_“I love you, too, Dean.” You grinned up at him._

_The two of you lost your virginity to each other that night. You’d laughed after, saying it was such a cliche- two high schoolers losing their virginity in the back of a car. He’d grinned and said it was perfect. You were quick to agree, because it was with him._

Before you knew it, Dean was gone. Life went on, slowly. Each day dragged on as you wondered if he ever thought about you. You were left with a reminder that would loom over you for the rest of your life.

Shaking your head, you calmed yourself and went back to work. You didn’t have time to dwell on the past, or to get emotional.

* * *

It was early one morning when there was a knock at your door. Moving through your modest house, mug of coffee in your hands. Your hair was once again, put up. You were wearing a comfortable house sweater and leggings. Why wear clothes just to look nice when you worked from home?

Opening the door, you were met with shining green eyes that you would never forget. “Hi, Dean.” You breathed. Next to him was a taller man, and you didn’t recognize him until he smiled. “Holy shit. _Sammy_?” You gasped, causing him to chuckle.

Dean stood there, clearly shocked. Your eyes moved from Sam, back to Dean. “Y/N?” He asked.

“That’s me.” You nodded. “Come on in.” You moved aside, letting them by. “So, what did you need?” Shutting the door, you motioned for them to follow you through the house to where you worked from. “This is home base.” You smiled, sitting down.

“This is incredible.” Sam grinned.

You couldn’t help but feel proud. “Thanks. Bobby helped me, actually.” You told them. “Came to stay with me a couple weeks some years back. Helped with this, warding, and a few repairs here and there.” You weren’t getting into why he’d done so, or how you’d met him, though.

Sam nodded. “He was a good man.”

Dean was still staring at you, trying to figure out how he was currently feeling. “What, Dean?” You asked, snapping from his trance. “You called needing help. I’m sitting right here. Spill the beans.” You were doing your best to keep calm, and not to freak out that he was only a few feet from you.

* * *

The three of you sat in your library working in silence. Aside from you serving lunch, and drinks, none of you really moved. Finally, after dinner, Dean stretched. “I’m beat. That was one hell of a drive. I’m gonna go get a motel room and crash for a bit.” He got up, grabbing his coat.

“Wait, Dean.” You were already kicking yourself for this. “I have plenty of room. You’re welcome to stay here. I know that being a hunter isn’t exactly lucrative.”

“You _sure_?” He asked, not wanting things to be weird.

Getting up, you nodded. “Yeah, I’ll show you to one of the spare rooms. I’ll be right back, Sammy.” You smiled.

He nodded, barely glancing up from the book he was taking notes from.

You and Dean walked in silence towards the stairs. “So. You’re a hunter?” You glanced at him.

“Kinda the family business.” He chuckled.

Stopping, you turned to look at him. “You mean when you left in high school, it was because of hunting?” He nodded. “That makes more sense than what you told me.” You chuckled and continued up the stairs. The spare room you were putting him in was the second door on the left.

“You have a kid brother or something?” He asked, pointing to a room.

You turned and hurriedly shut the door. “No one goes in there.” You told him quickly.

He put his hand on the wall by your side, blocking you from walking away. “Hey. Talk to me.” His voice was gentle. “I _know _it’s been years, but still. You can still talk to me.”

Looking up, the look in his eyes and your resolve crumbled. A tear slipped down your cheek and you reopened the door. “This was my son’s room.” You said quietly, letting him by. The walls were a dark blue, with posters and ribbons hung up. There were trophies for soccer, football, baseball, and spelling. You hadn’t changed anything about his room. You’d go in long enough to dust, and that was it.

Dean walked in, looking around. “You said ’_was_’?” His eyes shot to you before a team photo from his last year on the baseball team caught his eye.

“Yeah. Was.” Crossing your arms, you leaned on the open door. “Alex would have been twenty-one this January.” Your voice broke. “The last time I saw him, he was fourteen.”

“What happened?” He asked, moving to stand with you.

You licked your lips. “We still don’t know.” Moving into his room, you picked up his school picture. “He was home with some friends that night. I ran out to get some Burger King for everyone.” There were tears flowing down your cheeks. “I came home to a mother’s worst nightmare. Two of his friends were all but butchered. Blood everywhere. I looked everywhere for Alex, but him and his best friend were missing.” Taking a deep breath, you looked over at him, and handed him the picture. “There was no word from anyone about him for months. Until Bobby Singer came to town.”

Dean took the picture and sucked in a breath.

“Bobby found him. Or, his body. Drained. I demanded he tell me the truth. Not this bullshit he was trying to sell me.” You let out a sick chuckle. “Vampires.” You breathed. “He stayed and taught me what he could. That’s how I got started in doing research for hunters, actually. Then a few years back, my house was broken into. I smelled sulfur, hence him helping me out.”

“Alex would be twenty-one in January?” He asked, his eyes still on the school picture.

You nodded, chewing on your lip. “January 24.”

“That’s my birthday.”

“I know.” You sighed. “I told him that he had his father’s birthday.” Your voice was just above a whisper, scared of how he’d react. “Alexander William Y/L/N, January 24th, 8 pounds 6 ounces, 20 inches long.”

His heart dropped. He had a son, and vampires killed him. Dean put the picture back where you picked it up from and walked out. You heard his boots down the stairs, and then moments later, the front door slam.

You sat on the end of Alex’s bed and cried. Was Dean angry with you? Was he simply upset over finding out about not only having a son, but that he was dead?

Wiping your cheeks off, you walked out of the room and gently shut the door behind you before heading to the bathroom.

* * *

Sam didn’t ask what caused Dean to storm out, as it obviously upsetting you. So, the two of you worked in peace until Sam made his way to bed.

You nodded off in your chair, your head on the table.

Dean walked in about midnight and chuckled when he saw you. As gently as he could, he scooped you up. Your head moved to his shoulder, the smell of leather and whiskey hitting you. “Dean?” You yawned, looking up.

“I’m sorry I stormed out, sweetheart.” He said quietly as he carried you.

You shook your head. “I’m sorry that’s how you found out.” Not that you knew how to contact him until after you started helping hunters out. After that, not a word was said between you as he moved through the upstairs hall. You pointed out your room for him when you neared it.

He went to lay you under the covers and his eyes met yours. You pulled him into a gentle kiss, your fingers in his short hair. Your heart sped up, just like it had all those years ago. “Stop me before I try to do more.” He breathed.

“I’ve missed you, Dean. Go shut my door.” You smiled up at him. As he stood up, he removed his jacket, tossing it on a nearby chair. Once the door was shut, he toed off his boots and crawled over you. His body was flush against yours, your hands quickly moving to remove his shirt.

He kissed your neck, smiling against your skin. “I’ve missed you, too.” He groaned as you rolled your hips against him. At that moment, nothing out side of the two of you mattered. After years apart, you were together again. Even if it was only while he was in town, he needed you. He needed your comfort. 

Your lips were moving with his perfectly as clothing was removed. His bare skin against yours brought back such memories, but now he was more muscular.

“Condom?” He breathed against your lips. Smiling, you pointed to your nightstand. Leaning over, he pulled open the drawer and felt around until his fingers brushed the packet. Dean moved to sit back on his heels as he opened the package, your eyes never leaving his face. Moments later, he was lining himself up with your entrance, his hips moving forward.

You moaned as he was buried deep inside you. “Fuck, Dean.” He moved finally, pulling out before thrusting in, making you cry out. The first time with Dean was slightly awkward, as neither of you were sure of yourselves. Now, with time between then, and now, he knew exactly how to work you.

Sweat dripped from his skin to yours as you clung to him. His teeth nipped at your skin, followed by his tongue tracing the very faint teeth marks. His hands roamed your body, memorizing every curve, the feel of your skin, and what you felt like pressed against him.

Your back arched as you clenched around him, your fingers gripping him tightly. “Dean….Fuck! Dean!” You whimpered.

Dean buried his face in your neck, his arms under yours, and his hands gripping your shoulders. Moments later, he was pulsing inside you with a moan of your name on his lips. “I’m never letting you go again.” He breathed.

* * *

“There you are.” Dean grinned at you.

You looked up from your book and chuckled. You were lounging in the bed you shared with him, reading. “Here I am. What do you need?”

He crawled up the bed towards you. “Sam’s out. Was hoping to have a little ‘us’ time.” He smirked. You were happy to see him a bit more like himself after he’d gained the mark the week before. At first he seemed a bit off.

**– 3 months later –**

“Dean!” You yelled. “I’m trying to talk to you!”

He shot you a glare. “The only thing your mouth is good for is—”

You threw the closet book you could reach at him. “You don’t talk to me anymore.” You snapped. “You fuck me, you get off, and you ignore me the rest of the time.” This was not the Dean that you fell in love with. This was not the Dean that you knew. You hated that fucking mark.

Sam walked in with the two of you toe to toe. He had heard the yelling from another part of the bunker and came to see what was going on. Dean shoved you, making you fall, his jaw clenched. “_Dean_!” Sam rushed in, helping you up.

“I’m done.” You told Dean, tears welling up in your eyes before you stormed off to pack your bags.

* * *

Sam would call once in awhile, but never mentioned Dean. You’d help him with his cases, you’d chat about nothing important, make empty plans to hang out, and then hang up.

You had no idea how long this had gone on for before Sam called you, crying. Dean was dead. Killed by Metatron. You cried into your pillow, wishing that life could have been better to him. Guilt made it’s way into your gut. Would he have survived if you had stayed? If you had tried harder.

And then came the next call. Dean was missing, and a demon. Crowley had something to do with it, of course. After that, you kept your eyes and ears open for signs of him for Sam. Anything that you thought would be him, you sent his way.

* * *

The calls decreased over time, until you no longer expected them. The Winchesters were a distant memory, one that would creep into your dreams sometimes, and took over your whiskey drenched thoughts.

It was on one of those nights that a knock on your door shocked you. The night sky was black from clouds, the massive rain pour making it dangerous to be out. You downed the last of your drink before getting up and walking to the door. The last person you expected to see standing there…was Dean Winchester.

The rain made it difficult to tell if he was crying or not, but it was clear that seeing him made you cry. “I fucked up. I’m so sorry.” He breathed, cupping your face with his wet hands, his lips meeting yours as water dripped from his hair. “That mark destroyed me, destroyed us. I was a demon…and then when I was myself again, I couldn’t face you. The guilt sickened me. The thoughts of how I treated you. The mark is gone. I’m human again, and there’s a new threat to this world. One that could easily wipe out the planet, and I need you.” His forehead went against yours. “I need you by my side. I need your help. I can’t do this without you.”

“Get your ass in here, Dean.”


	2. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: Anonymous. I loved the dean x reader you just wrote. Could you do a part 2 where they are together and amara finds out about her? At the same time they are dealing with casifer who reveals that the reader is pregnant?

The whole first night, you and Dean stayed up talking. It wasn’t until the sun started to shine in your windows that either of you even realized it. Both of you were exhausted, and finally gave in to sleep. You fell asleep with his arms around you, and your head on his chest.

* * *

It didn’t take to long for you to move into the bunker with the boys. Dean wanted you safe, and hated being away from you too long. So, you packed up what you needed, locked up your house, and made the trip to the bunker. It was a long trip, but so worth it.

Dean had stayed with you a week while you packed, helping. It only took that long because he kept distracting you. Not that you ever complained.

* * *

None of you knew how hectic life was about to get. Dean had told you all about Amara, all about his ‘connection’ to her, and that he had no interest in her. You trusted him.

It was three or four weeks after you’d come to live at the bunker when Dean came home panicked. You cupped his cheeks, trying to get him to calm down. Seeing him like this was new for you. Dean, while he was an emotional person, did not simply freak out like this. Something must have really gotten to him. “Talk to me!” You pleaded. “You’re scaring me.”

That’s when his green eyes met yours. He pulled you into a passionate kiss, and you felt tears hit your lips. “She knows about you.” He breathed, still holding your cheeks, his forehead against yours. “_Fuck_! She knows about us.”

“What?” You asked, rubbing your hands on his sides, trying to comfort him.

“I was doing everything I could to protect you. Everything in my power to shield you, and I failed. Amara knows about you.” You could all but feel the fear coming off of him. “I don’t know what I’d do if she got to you.” He wrapped his arms around you, and you held him close, rubbing his back. You had no idea what to say, so holding him was the best you could do at the moment.

Kissing his neck gently, you sighed. “I love you, Dean.” While you showed him daily how much he meant to you, it was the first time you’d said it out loud since being back. You’d been scared, but you couldn’t hold back anymore. He needed to hear it, and you wanted him to.

“I love you, too, baby.” He said softly.

* * *

As days passed with no sign of Amara, Dean began to relax. Things began to fall into place as everyone worked together to take her down.

And then you found out about Cas not being Cas. It was Lucifer. Which was one more thing to wear on Dean. He wanted his best friend back.

* * *

While you were still wary around ‘Cas’, you’d learned to work with him. There were times when he would simply sit with you while you both researched. Which was odd to you, but you never questioned it. One of those nights, it was you, Dean, Sam, and 'Cas’ sitting around the library, each with a book in front of you.

Cas kept glancing at you, which was starting to bother you. “_What_?!” You snapped.

He smirked. “I was just trying to find a way to tell Dean he’d knocked you up. _Again_.”

“I’m sorry, what now?” Dean asked, swallowing.

“**_Again_**?” Sam asked, looking between you and Dean.

Cas chuckled. “Oh, you mean they didn’t tell you?” He was enjoying this. “Dean got her pregnant way back when. He didn’t know until years after he died.”

“How could you _possibly _know that?” You asked, fighting tears.

“I have my ways.”

Your jaw clenched as you threw your mug at him and stormed out.

“So touchy.” He mused. Dean got up and went after you, knowing that you were probably upset about the way he’d spoken so casually about Alex’s death.

He found you in the room you shared with him, hugging a pillow. You were crying into it, and it killed him. He shut the door and moved to sit next to you on the bed. Dean pulled you close, kissing the top of your head. “It’ll be okay.”

You shook your head. “How did he know? About Alex.”

“I honestly don’t know.” He said quietly. “I don’t. Did you know about the baby?”

“No.” You sighed. “I’m sorry.”

He furrowed his brows. “Why are _you _sorry?”

You shifted and looked at him. “You can’t sit there and tell me that you’re happy. That you’re not scared of having a baby in this life. That you _want _this.”

Dean stared at you for a minute. “I fucking love you, Y/N.” His voice was firm. “And _yes_, having a baby in this life scares the hell out of me, I won’t lie.” His green eyes were tearing up as he spoke. “But I am over the moon about this baby. I get to be there for you. I get to make midnight runs for whatever you ask for. I get to deal with the hormones and labor. I get to be a dad.” He gave you a tearful smile. “Fuck. I get to be a **_dad_**!” He grinned, laughing.

“Dork.” You chuckled, smiling up at him.

* * *

You were shaking, your hand on your barely there bump. Not even 6 feet from you was Amara, facing Dean. You had silent tears flowing down your cheeks, worried for Dean. Her eyes turned towards you, and you swallowed.

Dean turned to watch you, and fear took over him. He watched as you took the angel blade that you had and raised it to chest level. “_No_!” He yelled. “Y/N!” Dean ran towards you, but time seemed to slow down.

Amara was killing you, by making you kill yourself. She watched idly as you stabbed yourself, right below the sternum. Dean fell to his knees as your body went to the ground. He held you close, crying. He couldn’t lose you again. Especially not like this. “We are bound to each other, Dean.” Amara said simply.

He sobbed, your blood seeping into his clothes. He ran his hand over your face, willing this to all be a nightmare. That he’d wake up and you’d be in his arms.


End file.
